The Long Night
by zgirnius
Summary: The argument in the Forbidden Forest, and the events of the night Dumbledore died, as lived by Severus Snape. Written before DH, and now AU.
1. The Forest

**Author's Note:**

The characters and situations of the Potterverse belong to the amazing J. K. Rowling. I am only borrowing them to amuse myself and, hopefully, my readers. No copyright infringement is intended.

This chapter in particular is based on an account included in "Elf Tails", a chapter of _Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince_. It therefore contains a couple of snippets of dialogue by J. K. Rowling.

**Chapter 1: The Forest**

The last rays of the sun were still peeking through in the west, but in the shadow of a massive oak tree where Snape awaited the Headmaster, it was dark as night. Only his sallow face could be made out in the gloom, as the black of his long robes and his lank, shoulder-length hair seemed to blend into the shadow. Snape paced energetically, his rapid movement not quite sufficing to dispel the tension in his shoulders as he marshaled his arguments one final time. He was not surprised when he heard rustling noises, harbingers of someone, or something, approaching him in the darkness. The Forest was not an entirely safe place even for staff at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; Snape stopped, hidden from view behind the gnarled trunk.

A few moments later Snape heard the familiar voice of the Headmaster.

"Good evening, Severus. You may come out from behind that tree now," said Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling. Snape strode around the tree, impressed, as always, by the magical skill Dumbledore displayed in even the most commonplace endeavors.

"Shall we a take turn about the Forest? It is rather cold to be standing in one spot tonight," Dumbledore suggested.

"If you like, Albus," Snape agreed.

As Dumbledore walked towards one of the several trails leading out of the clearing, he flicked his wand and a softly glowing ball of yellow light appeared ahead, lighting their way.

As he fell into step to the left of Dumbledore, Snape said stiffly, "Thank you for agreeing to meet me."

"You are welcome, of course, Severus," replied Dumbledore with a smile. "So, what is it that you wanted to discuss with me?"

"Draco," Snape began. "I told you of our conversation during Horace's Christmas party. It has had no effect on him; I doubt that he even bothered to check my story with his mother over the holiday."

"No, Severus, I believe your warning, at least, had its effect," Dumbledore contradicted him gently.

Snape walked silently, striving to relax while waiting for an explanation. The trail passed through a spot where thick undergrowth encroached upon the path, allowing only one man to pass at a time, so he slowed to let the Dumbledore go ahead.

As the trail widened again, Snape caught up with a couple of brisk steps. As there was still no explanation forthcoming, Snape inquired, attempting to hide his impatience, "How can you be sure?"

"He would have tried again already," Dumbledore explained. "The holiday also provided an opportunity to set another similar plan in motion. He has not, and he will not."

The trail crossed another, and Dumbledore turned right onto the new path. Snape followed him.

"Perhaps. But he is definitely up to something, these past several weeks," Snape said.

"What makes you so sure, Severus?" inquired Dumbledore. "What is he doing?"

"I do not know, and that is what worries me. He disappears for hours at a time. Crabbe and Goyle are helping him, somehow. They have been spending a lot of time on the seventh floor, I presume to keep tabs on Potter for him, since the Gryffindor Common Room is there."

"He is not leaving the castle, surely?"

"Not that I have seen," Snape replied.

"Then he has no way to bring in anything dangerous, like the necklace, even if he still wanted to do so," Dumbledore pointed out.

"I still say it is too risky," said Snape, willing his voice to remain calm. "We were lucky with Miss Bell, but the next attempt could be deadly. In all this time I have learned nothing of his plans. We should hide the boy and Narcissa first, and then you can talk some sense into him." Snape was no longer quite keeping the frustration out of his voice.

"We still have time. Another three months, before school is out," said Dumbledore soothingly. "While Draco remains under my protection at school, we need not fear your Vow, Severus. It will not 'prove necessary' for you to do anything."

"In three months' time, whatever else may happen, I will no longer be here," Snape reminded Dumbledore.

"If you leave sooner, rest assured that I will deal with Draco as you suggest. But I will not act unless I must. He needs to know he has the chance to kill me, to understand for himself that he cannot, Severus, as I have explained before," said Dumbledore firmly.

The worries of the past months had left Snape somewhat distrustful of his own reasoning. Was he overreacting? He considered all Dumbledore had told him. "He did suggest to me that he had outside assistance, better than Crabbe and Goyle. That must mean other Death Eaters," Snape said, thinking aloud.

"You are probably right, but the boy is done with these indirect approaches. His next move will be against me directly, and his Death Eater accomplices cannot help him then." This was true, Snape conceded. Unless…

"What if he somehow gets them into the school?" asked Snape. He halted, struck by the thought.

Dumbledore stopped and turned back to face Snape. "Severus, you know how seriously I take the safety of the students. You are familiar with our security arrangements. You know as well as I that what you suggest is impossible." The headmaster spoke calmly, but Snape recognized the determination in his expression.

He was too frustrated to be deterred by Dumbledore's firmness. He felt overwhelmed. For months, he has been watching over Draco, worrying about him, about the bystanders he might harm, about Dumbledore, and about the consequences of his Vow. Teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts only made matters worse, for it meant waiting for disaster to strike, as it certainly would, but when, and in what form? He had often had the feeling he was overlooking something, this year…was this it?

"I cannot just stand by and watch as the boy does something irrevocable while I wait for him to make his move."

"He will not, Severus. You will see to it."

"We could be overlooking something. You take too much for granted. Maybe I don't want to do it anymore!" he yelled. He knew it was a mistake the moment the words left his mouth. It never paid to get emotional in an argument with Dumbledore.

"You've agreed to do this my way, and that's all there is to it," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape heard the finality in his voice.

Dumbledore resumed walking, and Snape followed. There was always his own backup plan, the one he had never discussed with the Headmaster. If it came to it, Snape had resolved, he would stop Draco himself, Vow or no Vow. He was done with letting others die for his own mistakes. An odd sort of peace followed this resolution.

"Just keep an eye on the boy as you have all year, Severus," Dumbledore said, breaking the awkward silence that had followed his command. "You're supposed to be making investigations in your House; the necklace incident has provided a fine pretext."

"Very well, Albus," Snape said calmly.

A low-hanging branch blocked the path, and Dumbledore heedlessly pushed it aside with his right hand. Snape frowned at Dumbledore's sharply indrawn breath.

"You did all that could be done, Severus," Dumbledore said softly.

"It still pains you, when you exert pressure upon it? The potion is not helping?" asked Snape.

"You told me yourself you doubted it would," Dumbledore reminded him.

"Let me have a look," said Snape. Dumbledore stopped and extended his right arm, as the globe of yellow light returned to hover over the pair, permitting Snape to see the blackened, withered hand clearly. Snape took it gently in his hands, his cold black eyes narrowing in concentration as he turned it carefully to examine it from several angles.

"It has not spread since summer," Snape stated. "Not visibly, anyway."

"It has not worsened, Severus," Dumbledore reassured him, taking his arm back. "The potion is working just as you intended." He continued down the path, Snape beside him.

An accomplishment, of sorts, Snape recognized. Snape had never before encountered a Dark curse of such virulence and power. It galled his professional pride that he could do no more, but honesty compelled him to admit, at least to himself, that he had been lucky to succeed as far as he had. This reminded him of yet another detail he had almost overlooked.

"I have written down the recipe for that potion, Albus," Snape said. "I want you to know where it is, in case…" he trailed off, leaving that thought unfinished. "I'm not sure exactly how or when I'll be leaving, or how free I will be to communicate immediately afterwards," he added coolly.

"I understand," said Dumbledore gently.

"The left middle drawer of the desk in my office has a false bottom," Snape explained. "I have left a copy there. It is…tricky, but should be within Horace's power to make."

"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore, his blue eyes misting slightly.

Snape looked down at the ground, as if unsure of his footing in the gathering dark. He did not trust himself to speak. Dumbledore said nothing further, and the two men walked on, the stillness of the forest now disturbed only by the occasional call of a night bird.

Before long, the trail led to a narrow stream dotted with stepping-stones.

Dumbledore spoke up. "We're close to the castle, here. I'll go on across the stream."

"Very well, I'll return by another route," Snape agreed. As Dumbledore and his globe of yellow light crossed the stream, Snape turned away and seemed to fade into the blackness of the Forest.


	2. The Lightning Struck Tower

**Disclaimer:** This installment includes scenes and dialogue depicted in the chapters "The Lightning-Struck Tower" and "The Flight of the Prince" of _Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince_. That material is property of J. K. Rowling, as are the characters and situations of the Potterverse. I am just borrowing them for my own amusement, and I hope the amusement of my readers. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Chapter 2: The Lightning-Struck Tower**

Severus Snape sat behind the heavy wooden desk in his office, his face obscured by a curtain of black hair as he bent over the parchment he was reading in the dim candlelight. Occasionally he dipped his quill into the bottle of red ink to his right and made a brief, hurried notation on the parchment. "Dunderhead!" he muttered under his breath as with a flourish he inscribed a large letter "D" at the bottom of the essay. Straightening, he tossed the parchment into a tray at his left, his hair parting to reveal his sallow face and hooked nose.

As his long-fingered hand reached for another parchment from the too-gradually diminishing pile on his right, Snape heard the muffled sounds of someone running and shouting in the hallway. Quickly Snape snatched up his wand, which lay close at hand next to the inkpot, and pointed it at the heavy oak door, his dark eyes narrowing in concentration. Attention focused on the door, wand at the ready, he pushed his chair back from the desk. As he came to his feet, the door burst open, admitting Professor Flitwick.

"Death Eaters!" shouted Snape's diminutive colleague, his shock of white hair flopping as he skidded to an abrupt stop in front of the desk.

It had begun, then. Draco had somehow managed to get Death Eaters into the school, despite all their precautions. Snape fixed his cold stare on his colleague.

"Here in the school! Death Eaters!" Flitwick continued excitedly. "Minerva sent me, we need your help!"

Snape strode around the desk, thinking swiftly. What would he need to do tonight? With Death Eaters in the school, would his chances of success be greater, or smaller, in Flitwick's company? It was not a night for taking chances, Snape decided. Mistaking his silence for assent, Flitwick turned to lead the way back to the fight. He was felled instantly by Snape's silent Stupefy spell.

Swiftly Snape stepped over the fallen Charms professor's body and hurtled into the hallway. He stopped abruptly as, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed two robed figures with wands standing nearby in the hallway. As he spun around to face them, black robes billowing and wand still at the ready, he recognized Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood. Luna stood, a bemused look on her face, her wand aimed vaguely in his direction with the same lack of precision he recalled all too well from class. Hermione, her brown eyes wide with fear, but her stance resolute, stepped forward cautiously, her wand aimed straight at Snape's chest. Well, his decision to Stun Flitwick was already paying dividends: it was the perfect opportunity to make sure these two students stayed out of the fight.

"Miss Granger, Miss Lovegood, we will discuss your presence outside your dormitories at this hour at a later time," he snapped, his black eyes glittering. He noted with satisfaction that his assumption of a teacher's authority was having the desired effect on Hermione, who lowered her wand a hair and flushed at this threat. "Professor Flitwick has collapsed in my office. Please see what you can do for him. I am on my way to join Professor McGonagall, you must have heard what the Professor said."

"Yes, Professor Snape," said Hermione as she strode briskly towards the office, her brown, bushy hair bouncing behind her. Luna's protuberant silver eyes followed Snape for a moment as Snape turned and ran down the hallway. Then she tucked the wand she had been holding in her hand behind her ear and followed Hermione.

Flitwick was not there to guide him, but a flash of memory Snape had picked up as the Charms professor spoke to him suggested he start at the foot of the stairway leading to the Astronomy Tower. Snape turned into the nearest flight of stairs and started to run up the steps two at a time. As he neared the level of the tower entrance, Snape began to hear the sounds of battle, the shouted jinxes and countercurses of the combatants. Snape halted as he came upon the battle. It was a scene of chaos. Curses were bouncing off the walls seemingly at random as the Death Eaters and Order members fought. Draco was nowhere to be seen, but on the stairs to the top of the tower, Snape saw Neville Longbottom thrown back by a magical barrier as he tried to run up the stairs. "They've blocked the stairs-Reducto! REDUCTO!" shouted an Order member.

Snape's mouth twisted into a bitter sneer as he unconsciously rubbed his left forearm. Oh yes, he had what it took to pass _that_ barrier. He ran straight through the thick of the battle, calculating, correctly as it turned out, that none would choose to attack him, for all believed him to be on their side. As he sprinted up the stairs, he noticed Lupin running after him, only to fall back as well when the Death Eaters' barrier repelled him. Snape continued upwards.

Well, this was it, the moment he had been dreading all year. Perhaps Dumbledore's plan to hide Draco could still be made to work. If the barrier was there to isolate Draco while he carried out the Dark Lord's orders, the other Death Eaters might all have remained below. Even if there were a Death Eater or two on the Tower, could he disable them before the Vow took effect? If he arrived before Draco had a chance to do anything…maybe. If not, well, he had known when he made the Vow that it might come to this. He was ready. He would at least prevent the Headmaster's death at Draco's hands before he died.

"Draco, do it or stand aside so one of us-" Snape heard a woman screech as he burst through the door.

Standing in the doorway, wand clutched in his hand, Snape quickly took stock of his surroundings. The scene was lit only by the dim, green glow of the Dark Mark hanging overhead. Alecto, whose screeching he had heard, he had expected to see, accompanied, naturally, by her brother Amycus. The werewolf Fenrir and the brutal-faced Yaxley completed the foursome, their faces even more hideous in the eerie green light. They stood in a rough circle, all with wands drawn and pointed at Dumbledore.

The Headmaster, unexpectedly looking all of his one hundred and fifty years and more, was leaning, grey-faced, against the far rampart of the Tower, his feet so far forward it looked as though he might slip to the floor at any moment. His appearance was clearly no mere effect of the lighting. Standing between him and Snape, facing the Headmaster, was Draco Malfoy. His right arm was shaking as he pointed his wand in Dumbledore's direction. Off to the side, Snape noted two brooms and quickly made his glance slide past them, not wishing to draw the Death Eaters' attention to the possible presence of a second enemy. This was it, then. He'd take Greyback first, he decided. The thought of the werewolf loose among the students turned his stomach. Then Yaxley…if he still had time, he decided.

"We've got a problem, Snape," said Amycus. "The boy does not seem able-"

While this statement, so evocative of the Vow he had made to Draco's mother, would normally have commanded Snape's full attention, Snape focused on the Headmaster, who had softly spoken only one word,

"Severus…"

Snape strode wordlessly towards Dumbledore, oblivious to the actions of the others as he reached out with his Legilimency. As he approached Draco, he perceived a dreadful image in the forefront of Dumbledore's mind: the old man lay, his shoulders supported by young Potter, who was offering Dumbledore a crystal goblet full of a glowing green potion. Snape could see nearby the now almost empty basin, containing what appeared to be a locket on a gold chain, from which the potion had come. Dumbledore's grey color, agonized expression, and labored breathing told the tale of the Dark and dangerous nature of this potion. Beyond, dimly visible in the gloom, an Inferius broke the murky surface of the lake.

The presence of the second broom on the Tower was now explained, and for the first time Snape felt a moment of gratitude for that pesky Invisibility Cloak of Potter's. At the same time, he also understood that unless he could soon provide an antidote, he was looking at a dead man. Disturbed by this vision, Snape pushed Malfoy roughly aside. As he gazed into Dumbledore's blue eyes, their usual twinkle dimmed by the effects of the potion, a new and even more horrific image replaced the scene with the potion. Struck by a jet of green light from Snape's wand, Dumbledore died, while Snape and the others present looked on.

Snape's face twisted with revulsion at this suggestion, though he could see the harsh logic behind Dumbledore's solution to their predicament. Dumbledore was right. However well he fought, the Vow would kill him shortly even if the others did not, and the survivors would ensure the death of Dumbledore regardless, for the Headmaster was in no condition to defend himself. Snape was flooded with hatred of himself for having ever taken that cursed Vow with Narcissa, which now trapped him. What Dumbledore now asked was the one thing he had been _sure_ he could avoid, that night.

Dumbledore, seeing the conflict in Snape's face, spoke again, as he concentrated with his remaining powers on a memory now nearly seventeen years old. Of a fateful afternoon, when a young man had come to Dumbledore full of remorse for having told the Prophecy to Voldemort, and had agreed to become his spy, to make amends for his crimes. "Severus…please…"

Defeated, Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore. Focusing his magical powers to the utmost and giving free rein to his hates and sorrows, he spoke the words Dumbledore required of him, "Avada Kedavra!"

The image in Snape's mind was abruptly replaced by a chilling and absolute blackness, as the man who had given Snape his trust all those years ago was no more. With a nonverbal spell, Snape sent his body over the ramparts, where it hung for a moment like a macabre rag doll before it fell out of sight, and out of the reach of his enemies.

It was not the time for grief or self-recrimination. Snape _would not_ let this sacrifice be in vain. He would return to Voldemort as Dumbledore had planned when he gave Snape the DADA position. And he _would_ find a way to put his unexpected 'success' to good use.

"Out of here, quickly!" he ordered the watching Death Eaters. He seized Malfoy by the scruff of the neck and forced him through the door ahead of the rest; the others followed. Doubtless Potter would not be far behind. Snape had to trust that the Order members below would see to the boy.

Ahead of him, a large portion of the ceiling collapsed into a heap of rubble. The dust concealed him from the combatants for a moment, until he and Draco had descended the tower staircase completely. As he emerged form the dust, Snape ran once again through the thick of the battle, pushing Draco before him. Thinking him pursued by the Death Eaters from the tower, the Order members again allowed Snape to pass unchallenged. As he left the room, Snape shouted an order to the Death Eaters who had remained below. "It's over, time to go!"

"We're getting out of here," Snape hissed at Draco as he steered him towards the nearest exit to the school grounds.

No longer resisting, Draco ran ahead to the exit Snape had chosen. Soon they were running across the grounds past Hagrid's hut towards the gates beyond which they could Disapparate. Hagrid came out brandishing his pink umbrella and fired a spell at the Death Eaters following Snape.

Suddenly, Snape heard Harry's voice behind him call out, "Stupefy!" and saw the red bolt of Harry's spell soar past his head.

"Run, Draco!" Snape shouted, as he spun around to face Harry.

For a moment, they regarded each other in silence. Then, with the appearance of a unison born of long practice, they both raised their wands.

As he sensed Harry prepare mentally to cast the _Crucio_, Snape prepared to parry it, and the attempt that followed. The last Death Eaters were drawing near. As he ran, Yaxley set fire to Hagrid's hut.

While continuing to deflect Harry's spells and carry on an exchange of insults, Snape kept an eye on the others.

"Now come!" Snape shouted at YaxleyHagrid was fully occupied with the fire, what need did that dolt have to hang around longer? "It is time to be gone, before the Ministry turns up to-"

"Impedi-"

As Harry tried yet another curse (at least he's varying things now, not so predictable, thought Snape) the boy suddenly fell to the ground, screaming in agony, as Alecto, her face distorted by a hideous grin of pleasure, aimed her wand directly at Harry.

"No!" roared Snape, casting a nonverbal Shield Charm at the woman, who lowered her wand directly. "Have you forgotten our orders? Potter belongs to the Dark Lord-we are to leave him! Go! Go!"

To Snape's relief, the Carrows and Yaxley complied, running past him toward the gates. He was left alone with Harry. The boy, while still clearly affected by the Cruciatus Curse with which Alecto had hit him, yelled inarticulately as the Death Eaters fled, clambered to his feet and staggered towards Snape.

"Sectum-!"

With a flick of his wand, Snape repelled the curse. Potter meant to kill him, then. Snape could almost feel the heat of the anger and hatred that boiled off Harry as Harry staggered towards him. _Levi-_

"No, Potter!" screamed Snape, barely getting in his own nonverbal Expelliarmus. At that range, with the boy attempting nonverbal spells (so he _could_ do them, in a pinch), he would not take his chances with a mere parry…fortunately, the others were now gone, so the loss of his wand posed no threat to Harry.

"You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them-I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, would you? I don't think so!" Snape said angrily.

As Harry dove for his wand, Snape shouted, "No!" and sent it spinning into the darkness with a hex.

"Kill me then," panted Harry. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward-"

Harry's words brought back the impressions Snape had until then been successfully keeping at bay. Dumbledore, slumped against the wall, with barely strength enough remaining to speak his name…. He remembered, suddenly, the final contact with Dumbledore's mind, and its abrupt replacement by-nothingness. A terrible doubt crept into his mind. Had he, in fact, murdered the man to whom he owed everything to save himself? Had he been too quick to accede to Dumbledore's request?

"DON'T," screamed Snape, beside himself over the memory of what he had just done, "CALL ME COWARD!" With his mind drowning in a maelstrom of emotion, Snape at that moment desired only to return pain for the pain he felt. He lashed out with his wand, throwing the boy back as with an unseen blow of a whip.

At that moment, Hagrid's hippogriff launched itself at Snape. The practical exigency of ducking to avoid the initial attack of its sharp claws returned Snape to his senses. What had possessed him, to stand there arguing with Potter? He had matters to tend to elsewhere. Ducking a second swipe from Buckbeak, he turned and ran as fast as he could for the gates, and the limits of the school's anti-Apparition wards.


	3. Malfoy Manor

**Chapter 3: Malfoy Manor**

As soon as he passed the borders of Hogwarts's grounds, Snape spun about and Disapparated. The familiar sensation of compression eased after a moment, and Snape opened his eyes to find himself outside the ornate wrought-iron gates of Malfoy Manor. He glanced around quickly to check that no one else was in sight. The gates parted before him with a loud creak as he waved his wand and then closed behind him. He strode through and continued at a jog up the graveled walkway that led from the gates to the imposing front entrance to the manor.

The way was lit only by starlight; no light from inside shone through the tall leaded-glass windows. Snape hoped that this did not mean that the manor was deserted. If Draco had not Apparated home, Snape had no idea where else to even begin looking for him. Approaching the heavy double doors of the main entrance, Snape flicked his wand at one of the massive brass doorknockers, causing an echoing clang. To his relief, a small window opened in the left-hand door, then, as Snape stepped up onto the portico, the door opened slightly.

A very pale, anxious Narcissa Malfoy beckoned Snape in.

"Severus! Come in, quickly," she whispered.

She closed the door hastily as Snape came in. The foyer was lit only by the dimly glowing tip of Narcissa's wand, which she gripped tightly in her right fist. Her immaculately cut robes were somewhat rumpled and looked slightly askew, as if hastily retrieved from the laundry pile and pulled on haphazardly, and her long blond hair lacked some of its usual sheen.

"Is Draco here?" Snape asked.

Narcissa nodded. Snape breathed out softly, relieved.

"What has happened?" she asked fearfully.

"It is done," replied Snape savagely. His raised voice sent echoes bouncing off the vaulted ceiling. "We need to get out of here, quickly," he continued more quietly. "The place will be swarming with Aurors soon; they will come here first."

"So…" Narcissa's breath caught. "Draco…killed him, then?"

"I did," Snape replied curtly. His lip curled as he reflected that he must work on his delivery of that line. This was his crowning achievement as a Death Eater. Narcissa opened her mouth as if to say something, but then seemed to think better of it. She regarded Snape silently for another moment.

"Follow me," said Narcissa, turning away as her wand tip flared up to better illuminate their path. Their footfalls were muffled by the thick Oriental rugs that covered the floors, and a heavy silence settled on the house.

She led Snape through the grand entrance hall, its high ceiling lost in the gloom, and along a corridor that led to a large oak door. The door swung soundlessly open to reveal a flight of steps leading down into the cellars, and swung shut again as Snape and Narcissa climbed down. They passed a room Snape remembered from earlier visits as Lucius's wine cellar, as Narcissa led the way deeper into an older, less frequently visited portion of the cellar,. Abruptly, Narcissa stopped in the middle of the low corridor in front of a faded old tapestry, which might once have been a representation of the Manor with a dragon flying overhead. Hastily Narcissa waved her wand at the tapestry, which rolled itself up to reveal a rough-hewn stretch of stone in no discernible way different from the rest of the hallway. As Narcissa touched her palm to the wall, a previously invisible door slid open.

"It is I, Narcissa," she hissed into the dark below. She motioned for Snape to climb down the spiral staircase that led into a stone-floored, windowless pit of a room lit dimly by greenish magical torchlight. Bellatrix stood warily in front of the staircase, wand at the ready. This sunless hole must be where she had recently been staying, Snape thought. Her skin looked far paler than was her wont, and this pallor added additional years to her appearance beyond the premature grey in her hair, the legacy of her long stay in Azkaban. Draco sat on a sloppily made bed against the far wall, head in his hands. As Snape walked in, the door above banged shut.

"The tapestry, Narcissa?" Snape reminded her.

Narcissa cursed in a most unladylike way and reopened the door a crack to restore order to the hallway above with her wand.

"Home, sweet home, Bellatrix?" Snape surmised.

Bellatrix nodded, her heavily lidded eyes regarding him with distaste.

"Where does that door lead?" he asked, jerking his head at the only other visible exit.

"Into an underground passage which ends in a shed on the grounds beyond the range of the Malfoys' anti-Apparition jinxes," Bellatrix replied.

"Good. We can leave quickly when the need arises, then."

Draco twitched at this remark, and looked up nervously at Snape.

"Why would we need to leave in a hurry?" he asked, his voice quavering slightly.

"Potter was on the tower, Draco, presumably under that Invisibility Cloak of his. He will certainly finger you to the Aurors. He may be talking to them as we speak."

Snape turned to Narcissa.

"Narcissa, I have done as you asked. The task is complete. Draco is safe. Release me from the Vow."

"As you have done what she asked, what need is there?" inquired Bellatrix with a sneer.

"The second clause, Bellatrix, did not end with the completion of the task. I signed on to protect Draco from the old man, his meddling Order, and the incompetents of the Ministry while he pursued his mission. I have neither the ability to protect Draco from the Dark Lord-"

Narcissa gasped. What little color had remained drained from Draco's face. He looked as though he might be ill in a moment.

"-nor the desire to oppose his will," Snape finished.

"Surely, after tonight's success-" said Narcissa, sounding less than convinced by her own argument.

"Draco's plan was crucial to the success of the mission, it is true," Snape agreed. "Draco carried it out well. And so I will tell the Dark Lord."

"Don't believe him, Narcissa!" said Bellatrix. "If you free him now, he'll take all the credit for the deed, and steal Draco's glory."

"Narcissa, I killed Dumbledore before the others could say Draco had failed. I was the last to leave, to cover our escape. I have protected him as well as I could. You can trust me in this." He regarded her steadily, willing her to believe.

"Well, as he points out, he had no choice!" replied Bellatrix heatedly. "The Vow is the only reason he did not slither out of action again, Narcissa. Don't make the mistake of letting him off the hook."

"If the Vow forces me to act on Draco's behalf, Narcissa, the Dark Lord will wish to know why. I cannot refuse to answer anymore than I could deceive him,"

Snape warned her. "The Dark Lord always knows when somebody is lying to him. We will all be better off if he never learns of it. You as well, Bellatrix, you are just as guilty as we," said Snape, turning towards her.

Narcissa looked indecisively from Snape to her sister.

As Snape cast about for an additional argument, he felt a sudden searing pain in his left forearm. Judging by their reactions, Draco and Bellatrix, too, were receiving the Dark Lord's summons.

"No time to argue now, Snape," said Bellatrix with a triumphant smile. "Narcissa," she continued, "we've been summoned to appear before the Dark Lord."

As she spoke, she strode to the door and threw it open.

"Come on, Draco!" she urged, as she swung a hooded cloak, which had been hanging next to the door, around her shoulders and affixed a mask to her face.

"You can't stay here, Narcissa," said Snape, steering her towards the door behind the others. "Do you have any other place to go to?"

Narcissa closed the door behind them. "No. I think Bellatrix knows a spot…," she replied.

"That's right, Narcissa, I do," said Bellatrix, turning her head back for a moment to speak to her sister. "But I can't take you there until after the meeting. Snape is right, though. You'll have to come with us, I suppose."

They walked quickly down the long passageway. Soon, the floor began to slope upwards towards the ceiling, forcing even Narcissa to crouch down as she walked. They reached a dead end, where Draco opened a trapdoor. He pulled himself up with the agility of a natural athlete, and then helped his aunt and mother up. Snape pulled himself out last.

"Where to, Bellatrix?" asked Narcissa.

"Oh, that's right, you don't know. It doesn't work that way, Narcissa," explained Bellatrix. "We don't actually know where the Dark Lord is…when we Apparate in response to the summons, we travel to the right place. Here, I'll bring you along," she said, proffering her arm to Narcissa, who grasped it tightly. With a sharp crack, the sisters Disapparated. Draco and Snape both followed.


	4. The Death Eaters

**Chapter 4: The Death Eaters**

With a soft pop Snape appeared on a thickly wooded hillside. The light of moon and stars did not penetrate the interlaced branches of the trees, but he could see the two sisters and Draco awaiting him, their glowing wand tips barely affecting the surrounding gloom. Down slope, a light glimmered between the trunks of the trees. Together, the foursome walked downhill, picking their way through the snarled undergrowth. As they neared the light, they could see its source was a ruined old stone chapel. Magical lanterns hung at intervals above the jagged remnants of the walls, which were liberally defaced by assorted Muggle graffiti. They walked in silence, for which Snape was grateful. He rehearsed his story, willing himself to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he relived the events of the night once more.

Voldemort stood on a dais elevated a couple of feet above the broken remnants of the stone floor, at the far end of the chapel. He was talking with Peter Pettigrew, instantly recognizable by his silver right hand, which he caressed lovingly as he listened, his small, watery eyes fixed attentively on his master. The rat had left Spinner's End ahead of the Aurors, then, Snape realized, with a twinge of regret. Beside Voldemort lay Nagini, her thick body coiled beneath her triangular head as she dozed. Several Death Eaters, hooded and cloaked like Bella, stood to one side. Snape deduced that Alecto was one of them; she always stood out among the others due to her diminutive stature. Perhaps another score of Death Eaters stood arrayed in a rough semicircle around their leader.

As Snape, Draco, and Bellatrix approached, with Narcissa following, the others shifted and murmured among themselves.

"Ah, now all are here," announced Voldemort. "I would hear how the mission I assigned to young Malfoy fared."

Snape stepped forward.

"It is done, My Lord," he said, inclining his head respectfully. "Young Malfoy's plan worked perfectly. He lured the old fool to the Astronomy Tower and disarmed him. The Death Eaters he smuggled into the school," Snape bowed politely in the direction of the others, "prevented his escape, and also held off Order members who were patrolling the school."

"Do not play games with me, Snape!" said Voldemort in a high cold voice. "I know who it was that killed Dumbledore!" Beside him, the great snake stirred and lifted her head to gaze at the man who had angered her master.

Snape dropped to a knee.

"Yes, Master, it was I. The boy set it up; he was readying himself, hesitating before his first kill. I had just run onto the tower, so that only I among your followers there knew that the tide of the battle raging below had turned. It seemed urgent that your will be carried out, before help could arrive for the old man from below. I regret if my precipitate action has displeased you."

He raised his black eyes to Voldemort's, keeping his face still and calling to mind his memory of running through the chaotic scene at the foot of the stairs. As Voldemort's red eyes met his, he braced himself mentally in preparation for the ghastly touch of Voldemort's mind rummaging through his own. Apparently satisfied by what he found, Voldemort withdrew from Snape's mind and spoke. "No, Severus, I approve your decision."

Snape bowed his head low over his knee. "Thank you, My Lord," he said, and rose smoothly to his feet.

Voldemort looked over at the group of Death Eaters to his right, and back to Snape and Draco. "But this is not quite how I heard the story. These other Death Eaters were there longer. The boy did indeed contrive a means to bring my servants into Hogwarts Castle, and further caught Dumbledore alone and unarmed. However, he failed to act, despite more than one reminder to carry out my orders. I think young Malfoy needs some further encouragement."

He turned to Draco.

"Step forward, boy. I have heard that you disobeyed my orders."

Draco took a couple of hesitant steps forward, until he stood shoulder to shoulder with Snape. He was trembling visibly, and his face had turned nearly as pale as his silver-blond hair.

Voldemort raised his wand, aiming it squarely at Draco's chest.

Snape restrained an urge to swear viciously. Damn Alecto and the others, for getting to the Dark Lord first. And the fool boy, for not telling him a blasted thing. He should have known the rendezvous point, to get there first and forestall just this. Well, he had vowed to protect the boy, which made him the bigger fool. A foolish act for which he was about to pay. He wondered what the price would be, this time.

"Crucio!" shouted Voldemort in his high, cold voice, as Snape stepped in front of Draco.

As the spell hit him, he fell to the floor, screaming with the pain. As always, before the waves of fiery agony swept all rational thought from his mind, he marveled how familiarity with the effects of the Cruciatus Curse could never render it a whit more bearable. It was equally intolerable, every time.

After what seemed an eternity, the pain receded. Snape found himself lying on his stomach. From the intensity of the tremors that still shook his body, Snape judged that he had been under the curse for quite some time. Any surprise Voldemort may have felt at his reaction had not been sufficient to distract him from the curse.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Voldemort, his eyes glowing redly. Nagini was now fully awake, her long, powerful body circling Voldemort's dark robes, her eyes alert.

Stiffly Snape fought his way up onto his hands and knees. He sat back, head bowed.

"Look at me!" commanded Voldemort. "Why did you do this?"

It was not a question he could refuse to answer. If he did, the Dark Lord would seek the answer in his mind. Moreover, if, for the first time, he did not find an answer there, the Dark Lord would _know _that he had been deceived. Snape had no illusions about his own ability to resist the prolonged and invasive Legilimency that would ensue. The Vow would certainly come to light, and along with it, matters of far greater importance.

That thought was bringing certain memories too close to the surface, Snape realized. As he raised his eyes to meet Voldemort's, he pushed down these memories of Dumbledore: discussing with him the Riddle diary, seeking his aid with the cursed ring, and especially the memory he had shared about Potter just before his death. Snape faced Voldemort, his stomach writhing at the thought of what he was about to do.

"My Lord…" he said. "I…have sworn an Unbreakable Vow to protect the boy from harm."

"And just whose idea was that?" asked Voldemort dangerously.

There was no way to hide that fact, either. He had warned her, he had tried to warn them both.

"His mother's. She was worried about the dangers of the mission. Bellatrix here can confirm my story, she was our Bonder," Snape added.

Better to increase the number of targets for the Dark Lord's anger. He pictured Narcissa for a moment as she had been that night at his house, her tearstained, but still beautiful, blue eyes gazing into his as she had seized the front of his robes.

Voldemort's high, cold laugh rang in the room. "Still an eye for the ladies, Severus? And always, ones who choose other men…" The watching Death Eaters laughed appreciatively. Snape noticed Peter snickering, as he looked avidly from Narcissa to Voldemort.

Snape fought to keep his face neutral, and focused on a memory of kneeling with Narcissa as Bellatrix performed the Vow.

"Well, Narcissa" said Voldemort softly, "come to me and explain why you have interfered in the affairs of my Death Eaters."

As Voldemort spoke, Snape rose to his feet. He staggered as his right knee nearly gave under his weight. He must have bruised it on one of the many stone fragments that littered the floor when he fell, he realized. Regaining his balance, he took his place next to Draco. Narcissa ran forward. Her body folded gracefully on itself as she fell prostrate before Voldemort, her long blond hair sweeping the floor. Nagini, attracted by all the activity, circled Voldemort a final time and slithered down the pair of crumbling steps to the floor.

As Narcissa raised her head to speak, she found herself face to face with the enormous snake, its head raised and its forked tongue flicking out. She gave a little shriek and flinched back, a reaction which met with raucous laughter from the surrounding Death Eaters. With a calm in complete contradiction to a snake's natural instinct to strike, Nagini ignored her sudden movement and coiled herself comfortably at the foot of the platform.

"I am sorry!" Narcissa began, struggling to compose herself. "My Lord, I only wished your plan to prosper, and to safeguard my son from the Aurors. I know I have done wrong. Please, forgive me…" she said, her words tumbling from her mouth in desperation.

Voldemort smiled a cruel, cold smile and pointed his wand downward. As Snape had anticipated, Draco started forward. Snape grabbed his arm and whispered vehemently, "Stay, Draco, or you'll be the death of us all!"

"Crucio!" shouted Voldemort, and Narcissa writhed on the floor at his feet, howling with the pain.

It was obscene, Snape thought, to see her cold, pale beauty so hideously transformed. Killing an unarmed old man, giving a woman up to torture in front of her son…what would he find himself doing next, tonight?

He looked aside for a moment at Draco. He had ceased struggling, but had tears running down his face. Snape wished savagely that somewhere in the depths of her black heart Bellatrix, who was standing behind him, was pained by the sight of her sister's agony. He looked back, schooling his face into blank indifference. He should watch what he had wrought.

Voldemort raised his wand and Narcissa's cries subsided to quiet sobs. "I'm sorry…sorry…"

"You live only because your son has helped to secure us a victory, woman!" he declared. "I do not want to be further inconvenienced by your meddling."

"Oh, thank you, My Lord, thank you," she sobbed.

"Get her out of my sight!" ordered Voldemort.

Draco wrenched his arm free of Snape's hold and ran to his mother, helping her to her feet as Voldemort looked on, a contemptuous smile playing across his snakelike features. As Narcissa staggered, Draco swept her up and carried her away into the darkness, throwing an angry look in the direction of Snape and Bellatrix as he passed.

"Bella, come forward," said Voldemort sternly.

She swept past Snape in her long cloak, and dropped to her knees a cautious several feet away from Nagini. Her eyes were fixed on Voldemort.

"I have accepted your sister's apology for the foolish behavior of you both. As the mission is a success, I suppose that you trained the boy adequately. But you would do well, in the future, not to permit your enthusiasm for the cause to override your good sense."

Bellatrix bowed her head to the floor, and replied, "Thank you. My Lord, I live to serve you!" Her eyes shone fervidly as she looked again upon her Master.

"Then go to Draco, and wait there for Severus. He will be sharing your accommodation, for the time being."

"Yes, Master," she said. Still on her knees, she approached Voldemort to kiss the hem of his robe. Then she backed off the raised area of the floor and turned to join Draco in the dark forest.

"Well, now that we have that little matter out of the way," said Voldemort turning to the group who had participated in the raid, "I congratulate you on your successful mission. You all have served me well tonight. The world will tremble with fear when the news gets out. The ineffectiveness of the Ministry is established beyond a doubt. All will know that they proved unable to protect even Hogwarts from my Death Eaters, despite its vaunted ancient protections, even with the aid of Dumbledore and his so-called Order of the Phoenix. They will know that the Death Eaters can strike anywhere."

A cheer erupted among the crowd of Death Eaters. Voldemort paused for it to subside.

"Further, the Order has lost its leader and most powerful wizard in Dumbledore. It is a great victory for our cause."

Shouts of "Victory!" rang out from all directions. Voldemort raised his hands for silence.

"My plans can now move into a new phase. Expect to receive new orders soon. You may go now, my friends."

As the assembled Death Eaters bowed to their master, Voldemort spoke again. "Severus, stay a moment. I would hear more of the evening's events, and discuss your reward. You have served me faithfully this night, and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers."


	5. Lord Voldemort

**Chapter 5: Lord Voldemort**

The Death Eaters who had joined Draco in the raid approached Voldemort to kneel and kiss his robe in leave-taking, the first ones to do so in token of Voldemort's satisfaction with their efforts. Snape came closer to Voldemort and Wormtail, favoring his injured right leg. Nagini, apparently sensing the excitement was over for the night, uncoiled herself and slithered up the stairs to reclaim her place beside Voldemort.

Snape waited as the remaining Death Eaters filed past the Dark Lord to make their obeisance before leaving the ruined building. Was this private interview a good sign, or a bad one? His initial explanation had been well received, he judged. The Dark Lord had accepted his reasons for preempting Draco and had described the death of Dumbledore as a victory. He had seemed almost pleased to have uncovered a supposed weakness for Narcissa and a reason to humiliate him in front of the others. As he remembered the laughter of the onlookers gathered around him, and his powerlessness to protect either himself or her, he reminded himself coldly that he did not value the good opinion of any who had been present.

"I see, Wormtail, that you left my house ahead of the exterminators," Snape said, sneering, as the last Death Eater backed away. Wormtail shot Snape a resentful glance.

"I could send him with Bella, too," Voldemort suggested, with a penetrating glance at Snape.

If that was what he wanted, he could just order it, Snape thought. It is a test, then, he decided. It was time to see what, if anything, his killing of Dumbledore was worth in the Dark Lord's eyes. Snape faced Voldemort directly, his black eyes glittering. "I had hoped, My Lord, that after tonight, I might dispense with Wormtail's…'assistance'," he said, placing a delicate inflection on the final word.

"Indeed, Severus." A slight smile crossed Voldemort's snakelike features, and he turned to Wormtail. "Wormtail, you will be rejoining me. I will see you later tonight."

Wormtail dropped to his knees and grasped the hem of Voldemort's robe to kiss it. "Oh, thank you, My Lord," he responded, before he scurried off outside the circle of light cast by the lanterns.

"I had my doubts about you, when you came back to me two years ago, Severus," Voldemort began after Wormtail was out of sight. "Your story hung together, and I could sense the truth in it. But I remembered always that Dumbledore was a powerful wizard, and yet he believed you as well."

"I feared as much, My Lord," Snape said silkily. "I accepted it as an unavoidable disadvantage of my role as a spy. I regret that I cannot continue to serve you in that capacity at Hogwarts."

A cold smile that did not touch Voldemort's eyes twisted his lipless mouth. "I knew you would not remain there past the end of this year, and I am well pleased that you accomplished the task before departing. Still, the details interest me. What was Draco's plan?"

"In rough outline," Snape began cautiously, furiously reorganizing the information he had deduced to stress Draco's contribution, "he secretly smuggled Death Eaters into the castle on a night when Dumbledore stepped out to Hogsmeade. Then he lured Dumbledore into an ambush atop the Astronomy Tower by sending up the Dark Mark where it could be seen from the village-"

"Yes, the others have told me all that happened. What was _your_ role in the plan?" Voldemort interrupted.

"None, My Lord," Snape responded smoothly, "though I did what I could to divert the old man's suspicions after Draco's earlier, clumsy attempts. Fortunately, Draco made it easy by choosing methods that clearly originated outside the school. Draco would not discuss his plans and I knew none of the details."

"Interesting. I had heard you were a favourite teacher of his," remarked Voldemort.

"So he has said," Snape agreed. "I believe this change in his attitude was due to the influence of Bellatrix. She was always distrustful of my role as a spy. A very…straightforward thinker," he concluded, his lip curling.

Voldemort nodded his acceptance of the explanation. Returning to the subject, he asked, "You did not know the plan, then. So how was it that you came to be at the right place at the right time?"

"Professor Flitwick summoned me to help fight the Death Eaters. I disabled him and arrived alone at the fight. I saw one of us had fallen, and the others present below were outnumbered. Since I believed the mission to be most important, I ran up the Tower stairs-"

"You did not know the plan, you said," Voldemort interrupted him. "How, then, did you know Dumbledore was there?"

"A magical barrier had been placed across the stairs, which repelled all but Death Eaters. I saw its effects and recognized the spell. It seemed logical the barrier was keeping help from reaching Dumbledore while Draco carried out his task."

"Continue, then," Voldemort ordered.

"I ran up the Tower stairs. Draco had disarmed Dumbledore prior to my arrival and had his wand trained on him."

"They told me that in the end, he begged you for his life," Voldemort said, a questioning note in his voice.

"Yes," replied Snape, pouring all the contempt he felt for that lie into that one word and forcing his lips into a sneer.

"Show me!" Voldemort commanded.

Snape obeyed, inhaling deeply to calm himself as he made eye contact. He recalled again the memory of Dumbledore, slumped against the wall. The green jet of light, blasting him off the Tower. With every remaining ounce of strength, he fought to keep down the grief and self-loathing that threatened to overwhelm him as he relived the moment. Voldemort withdrew, a hideous grin of satisfaction on his face.

"So much for the old man's pious platitudes," he said triumphantly, his eyes blazing redly. "'There are things much worse than death', indeed," he finished in a mocking tone, and his high, cold laugh rang out across the now-deserted ruin.

Dumbledore's own words, Snape had no doubt, though he did not know the occasion on which they had been spoken. Their applicability to his own situation froze the sneer on his face. He must smile, he knew, and join in that hideous laughter, but it was just too much. Disgusted by his own weakness, Snape deliberately shifted his weight to his right leg, gasped, and righted himself. The Dark Lord had conveniently provided the excuse he needed for his failure to get fully into the spirit of the celebration, Snape thought, finally forcing a semblance of a sycophant's smile onto his face in response to Voldemort's obscene laughter.

This reminder of his punishment did not escape Voldemort's notice. He looked back at Snape, a hint of the smile still on his lips. Snape dropped his gaze, permitting some of the fear welling in his chest to show on his face. Voldemort's smile grew wider.

"What, had enough, Severus?" he said softly, training his wand lazily on Snape. "You seemed so eager earlier."

Snape straightened. "Like Dumbledore tonight, I merely recognized that death would be the ultimate failure. I did what was necessary to avoid it," he responded.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed and his hand steadied for a moment, before his high, cold laugh rang out again, and he lowered his wand. Snape exhaled softly, only then realizing that he had been holding his breath.

"Well said. And, well done, tonight," said Voldemort. "Your judgment was correct; the opportunity young Malfoy created was not to be wasted."

"You spoke of a reward, earlier, Master," said Snape, encouraged. "Since my actions did meet with your approval, there is one thing. Might I beg, My Lord, that I be permitted to oversee Draco in any task you assign him? So that I might continue to avoid the consequences of my part in the…foolish behavior?"

"Very well. Make sure that the boy does not give me cause to regret this decision, Severus," he warned.

"Thank you, My Lord. I will," Snape responded, inclining his head respectfully.

"About your own tasks, Severus, I have given them some thought over the past year," said Voldemort. "You have been teaching Potions at Hogwarts all these years. I presume, then, that you would be able to provide potions as needed for various uses?" Voldemort asked.

"Certainly, My Lord," Snape said without much enthusiasm. If he spent his days brewing poisons, Veritaserum, Polyjuice, and antidotes for others to use, he might gain some new contacts and forewarnings of Death Eater raids, but not the sort of secrets he hoped to uncover.

"Not many among my Death Eaters have this skill, Severus," Voldemort pointed out dangerously.

"Indeed, Master, I know to my regret that few students have the precision of mind to perform adequately in this field," agreed Snape. "Though, young Malfoy had an Outstanding OWL. Perhaps, if you have no other pressing tasks for him…"

"For now, he may assist you," Voldemort said. Snape bowed his thanks.

"Among my Death Eaters, you stood out as a youth with your knowledge of the Dark Arts. Not so much the Unforgivable Curses, which all learn and use, but more arcane, complex topics," Voldemort stated, shifting subject abruptly.

"I am pleased that you think so, Master," Snape replied carefully.

"And in your years with Dumbledore, have you lost this edge? Tell me the truth!" Voldemort commanded, gazing directly at Snape.

"No, My Lord," Snape answered confidently. "Although Dumbledore had me teach Potions all those years, I have kept up my skills, and done a great deal more reading and study on my own time." He was not sure where this conversation was leading, but this sounded far more likely to concern the sort of assignment Dumbledore would have wanted him to obtain.

"The Dementors are among my most potent allies, Severus. How do you feel about them?"

"A wizard is wise to fear them, Master," Snape said smoothly. "Yet I have studied what is known about them extensively."

"We shall speak of this further." Voldemort said. "For now, you are to set up a Potions laboratory."

"Yes, My Lord," Snape said, dropping carefully to his knees. "It will be done."

As he started to approach the Dark Lord on his knees to make his obeisance before leaving, Voldemort raised a hand.

"One more thing, Severus."

Snape stopped and looked up.

"They tell me that Potter chased you and Malfoy across the school grounds, Severus," Voldemort said.

"Yes, that is correct, Master," Snape responded calmly.

"Why would he have done so?" asked Voldemort.

"He saw me kill the Headmaster," Snape explained. "I did not see him on the Tower, but he owns an Invisibility Cloak. He must have been wearing it."

"Potter was there?" said Voldemort, his eyes flashing redly as he again raised his wand. "Why have you not mentioned this before?"

"What? The others didn't tell you?" said Snape, his lip curling contemptuously as his stomach roiled. He pushed his recently acquired knowledge of Potter's activities that night deep down under his memories of the tower. "No, let me guess. None of them noticed the second broom."

"The second broom?" asked Voldemort.

"Imbeciles," said Snape. "The Headmaster appeared to be alone when I showed up, but there were _two_ brooms leaning against the wall, so obviously he must have flown back with someone else. Who became clear when Potter started chasing us."

Voldemort lowered his wand. "Now that is an interesting bit of information. What was he doing with Dumbledore?"

"I am sorry, My Lord, I don't know," said Snape, shaking his head in a show of regret. "I mentioned in my reports this year Dumbledore's occasional trips from the school, the purpose of which he didn't share with me."

"Other spies tell me the Ministry, too, seeks the purpose of these excursions. I shall see whether they can shed any light on this," Voldemort paused, considering something.

Snape waited, concealing his impatience. Kneeling on the uneven stone floor was not doing his knee any good.

"So, how did the boy take it?" asked Voldemort.

"He was furious," Snape responded. Prompted by an angry glare from Voldemort, he continued. "He caught up to us near the edge of the school grounds. He was shooting off Stunning spells in our direction. As I turned to cover the others' escape, he attempted the Cruciatus curse against me. Repeatedly."

"You say attempted-how could he fail, if he was so angry?" asked Voldemort.

"I parried them; they never reached me. He is at best a mediocre duelist. This further incensed him. He attempted other spells and goaded me to fight him. Alecto Crucioed him, but I reminded her of your orders. Once the others had left the grounds, I disarmed him and made good my own escape."

"He truly hates you, then," said Voldemort with a cold smile.

"So it seems, My Lord," responded Snape.

"You have given me much to think on, Severus. You may leave now, with my thanks."

Snape walked up to Voldemort on his knees and kissed the hem of his robe. Rising to his feet, he bowed deeply and backed off the dais, before limping into the forest to find Draco, Bellatrix, and Narcissa.


	6. Bellatrix's Hideout

**Chapter 6: Bellatrix's Hideout**

Snape walked slowly in the general direction in which he had seen Draco leave. Picking his way through the undergrowth was a lot harder now. Fortunately he did not have far to go. He soon came upon Narcissa, who was sitting on a fallen log. She was leaning on Draco, who sat next to her, one arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders, the other holding his wand. A bright light at its tip illuminated the scene. Bellatrix was pacing nervously nearby, spinning about with alacrity at Snape's approach, her wand drawn. As she recognized him, she lowered her wand quickly, looking a bit discomfited.

"Feeling a touch nervous tonight, Bellatrix?" Snape observed mockingly.

"Oh, it is just you, Snape. It took you long enough to find us," she said, venting her annoyance at the alarm he had caused her.

"I am afraid that you should direct your complaints to the Dark Lord," Snape responded silkily. "The Dark Lord and I had much to discuss, Bellatrix."

He could not have felt less like smiling, but he managed a curl of his lip for her benefit. To a fanatical Death Eater such as she, a private audience with Voldemort was the highest reward: public, highly visible proof of his present status as the Dark Lord's favorite. Bellatrix had not missed the implication, and she was not pleased with the circumstances; she looked as if she had swallowed a lemon.

"Severus…" said Narcissa weakly. Snape sat down beside her on the mossy log in order hear her better. It was, he reflected, a vast improvement over kneeling on broken stone before the Dark Lord.

"Was anything further said about Draco?" she asked him.

"Yes, Narcissa. We spoke of the night's events and the Dark Lord agreed that Draco's plan created a singular opportunity to kill Dumbledore. Also, I asked for, and received, the Dark Lord's assurance that I would be permitted to continue watching over him," Snape told her. "For the present, he wishes you to assist me with any potion-making he requires," he added, with a nod to Draco. Narcissa smiled weakly.

"Aunt Bella, now that we're all here, could we go to your flat? Mother should be in bed," Draco said, rising to his feet. He leaned over and half helped, half lifted Narcissa up to a standing position. With the assistance of a nearby tree-trunk, Snape, too, stood up.

"Narcissa, are you certain you are capable of Apparition?" Snape asked. He was not particularly sure of his own ability to avoid Splinching himself in his present condition. Bellatrix glanced at her sister with a look of concern.

"He's right, Draco," she agreed. "Fortunately, there is no need for any of us to Apparate. Hold on." She withdrew an empty leather coin-purse from inside her robe and set it down carefully on the moss-covered log. With her face screwed up in a look of concentration, she passed her wand over it once, causing it to glow faintly for a moment.

"It is a Portkey, I just needed to set it," Bellatrix explained. "All right, gather around; it will activate in thirty seconds." She picked up the drawstring as she spoke. The others followed her example and grasped the purse. Draco extinguished the light, and they waited in the dark and silent woods for the Portkey to transport them.

Abruptly, Snape felt the familiar sensation of being pulled irresistibly upwards, navel first, with his hand glued to the bag. A howling swirl of light and color surrounded him before he found himself slammed back down into total darkness. He fell heavily as he failed to keep his footing upon landing. It seemed that he had arrived atop a rickety piece of wooden furniture.

The surroundings were suddenly illuminated by what was, unmistakably, an incandescent light bulb. Pushing himself carefully up from the coffee table across which he lay sprawled, he saw Bellatrix standing next to a light switch.

"Why, Bellatrix, your flat has electricity! I see that the fugitive life has greatly expanded your horizons," said Snape with a sneer.

"I am sure _you_ will find it quite comfortable, _Snape_," Bellatrix replied heatedly.

"That is fortunate," said Snape smoothly, ignoring the implied slur on his ancestry, "considering that the Dark Lord himself has ordered you to extend me your hospitality." At a loss for a suitable reply, Bellatrix glowered at him from under her heavy eyelids. Snape watched her, a slightly mocking smile on his lips.

"Actually, I am going to leave you here; this dump simply hasn't room for four. Draco knows where everything is," said Bellatrix, breaking the silence.

"Where is here?" Snape inquired.

"London. What the Muggles call Victoria," Bellatrix answered. "No one should bother you; the flat is protected by Muggle-repelling charms and anti-Apparition wards. I've stayed here before, whenever that puffed up busy-body blood traitor at the Ministry decided to raid Malfoy Manor."

"Ah, yes, the estimable Arthur Weasley. A pity that he could not search here; he would love your place," Snape said. Bellatrix seemed unsure what to make of this comment.

"I will stop by tomorrow," Bellatrix said, walking to the door.

"Well, good night, then, Bellatrix," said Snape.

"Good night," she responded as she left.

Looking around, Snape saw the room he was in had one other door. It must be through that door that Draco and Narcissa had disappeared during his little chat with Bellatrix. He limped across the scratched wooden floor and opened the door.

Narcissa was lying on the bed that was the only piece of furniture in the tiny room. A threadbare blanket covered her, and her face was turned towards the cracked and greying wall. Draco sat on a couple of folded blankets, his back against the bed and his knees drawn up to his chest, his expression downcast. Snape walked in and approached the bed. As he reached into his robes and drew out a small, stoppered bottle of dark glass, Draco sprang up, blocking Snape's path.

"Stand aside, Draco," said Snape sharply.

"Or what; you'll Crucio me?" sneered Draco. "You've done enough to her!" His voice broke as he choked back a sob.

Snape gazed coldly at Draco, and assumed a lecturing tone. "The Cruciatus Curse, aside from its immediate…unpleasantness, has also…unfortunate aftereffects. The physical effects include weakness and nausea, as well as soreness and stiffness of the joints and muscles which may last for days, while the mental effects may include insomnia, nightmares if the victim does manage to sleep, and attacks of overwhelming terror. This," Snape held the little bottle between thumb and forefinger at Draco's eye-level, "is an elixir capable of granting her a night of restful sleep and banishing the worst of the physical symptoms."

"And you just happen to be carrying a supply of it?" Draco asked. It did not take Legilimency to sense the boy's suspicion.

"I habitually keep a single dose of it about my person," Snape replied evenly. "I had no reason to suppose, this evening, that I might have need of a larger supply." He raised an eyebrow pointedly at Draco as he spoke.

Draco had the good grace to look abashed. Taking advantage of his discomfiture, Snape stepped to the side and swept decisively past him. Draco turned to watch his former Head of House, his hand straying toward his wand. Snape sat down on the edge of the bed and laid a hand on Narcissa's shoulder. She flinched, and a shudder shook her body. She curled up, pulling her blanket more closely about her.

"Narcissa, it is I, Severus," he said. "Look at me."

Narcissa moaned, and rolled onto her back. Snape leaned over and passed his left arm under her shoulders, raising her head up carefully. With the thumb of his right hand, he popped the stopper out of the little vial. "Here, drink this. It will help," he told her, bringing it to her lips.

He tipped the contents in expertly. As her lips pursed to expel the vile-tasting liquid, Snape, who had anticipated the possibility of this reaction, clapped his hand firmly over her mouth.

"Swallow it!" he ordered brusquely. Spluttering, Narcissa complied.

Draco hurtled into Snape's side, knocking him to the floor. He grunted as his tortured muscles stiffened in anticipation of his collision with the bare floor. Gingerly, Snape picked himself up off the floor and sat up against the wall, waiting for the wave of nausea occasioned by the pain of the impact to recede. Draco stood over him, his wand aimed directly at his chest. Snape turned towards Narcissa, who was lying back against her pillow.

"Foul stuff," he said. "I have never taken the time to do something about the taste. It definitely does the job, though." Narcissa raised herself up on one elbow.

"It's all right, Draco. I think I feel it working already," she said weakly. She settled herself back down on the bed, her head resting on the pillow.

Draco looked over at his mother, then back down at Snape. His look of suspicion remained fixed on his face. Snape knew the boy was not actually going to do anything to him. It was, rather, that having watched, and done nothing, as his mother was tortured, Draco now wanted to feel that he was protecting her. Snape suppressed a comment about shutting stable doors that this insight brought to mind. Instead, he remained on the floor, his face impassive. Lacking the energy to engage him in a constructive discussion, he waited for the boy to realize it for himself. Draco watched him for a bit, then lowered his wand and tucked it away. Grudgingly, he extended his hand to Snape.

"Here, get up," he said.

Snape grasped the offered hand and suppressed a groan as Draco yanked on his arm. He staggered slightly and then regained his feet.

"She will sleep, now. It would be best to leave her undisturbed," said Snape.

He left Draco with Narcissa in the cramped, shabby bedroom and limped back into the sitting room of the two-room flat. Taking stock of the layout of the room, he lowered himself gingerly into a timeworn armchair upholstered in a once garish chartreuse floral pattern and raised his feet up onto the battered coffee table in front of it. The chair was hard and lumpy, but it did face the door. Snape took out his wand and cast a quick Muffliato on the room, then set his wand down within easy reach of his right hand.

Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes. Even the dim light of the bulb overhead was giving him a headache. In an attempt to distract himself from it, and any consideration of the night's events, he began a mental list of the mundane tasks he needed to accomplish in the coming days. He should get a place of his own; he would not depend on Bellatrix for refuge longer than he had to. A trip to a certain little shop in Knockturn Alley for some supplies. No, first a visit to Gringotts; he would need money. No, first a trip to his emergency stash of potions; he could hardly walk through Diagon Alley in broad daylight as himself.

When he was well enough to start carrying them out, he knew, these plans would come to him effortlessly. For the present, however, forcing his tired brain to think about them was infinitely preferable to the alternative.


	7. The Problem of Draco

**Chapter 7: The Problem of Draco**

Snape wasn't sure how long it had been exactly that he had been sitting back in the armchair when he heard the door to the bedroom creak. Opening his eyes, he turned to see Draco emerge from the bedroom, carrying the two folded blankets on which he'd been sitting earlier.

"She's sleeping quietly," he said as he shut the door carefully behind him. Snape nodded his acknowledgment of this information. He had expected it; she was a young woman in excellent health. Her native recuperative powers, combined with the effects of the potion, would have her more-or-less back to normal by the afternoon, he estimated.

"Where is Aunt Bellatrix?" Draco asked.

"She's spending the night elsewhere; she didn't say where. I suppose she didn't care to sleep on the floor," Snape responded. "Oh, you take the sofa," he added.

Draco tossed the blankets onto the coffee table and sat down on the sofa, a brown vinyl eyesore not much improved by the crocheted afghan that covered it. He sat for a while, staring at the bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. He was in no mood to sleep, Snape concluded, leaning back in his chair. This was unfortunate, as Snape didn't expect to catch any sleep that night, but he had hoped for at least limited solitude to assimilate recent events and cope with the night's stresses.

"How could you do it?" Draco asked accusingly, after some time.

Snape's lip curled at the imprecision of the question. It could, he reflected as he lifted his head to look at Draco, apply equally to any number of his actions that night, most of which Draco had witnessed. He decided to answer the most obvious question in the only way he could under the circumstances.

"It was necessary in order to bring your mission to a successful conclusion," he replied.

Draco hung his head. Not so proud of the mission, anymore, Snape noted with grim satisfaction. However, this reminder only served to silence him for a moment.

"I actually meant…about my mother," Draco began to explain hesitantly. "You took the Unbreakable Vow, like she asked. You…protected me from the Dark Lord-"

"It isn't as though I had any choice in the matter tonight, Draco," Snape interrupted waspishly.

"Still, then you told him-" Draco persisted.

"How else do you suggest I ought to have explained my actions?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He might've killed her when you told him about the Vow!" Draco burst out.

"He _would _have killed us both, if I hadn't," Snape said with conviction. "Besides, she is of some use to him now that he has decided not to dispense with my services. The Dark Lord can't use…more direct means to motivate you, without losing me, thanks to your mother's interference."

Draco blanched as Snape explained his reasoning, and dropped his gaze to the moth eaten rug next to the sofa. Snape leaned back in the chair. He remembered watching Narcissa run to the Dark Lord and the sick feeling in his stomach. He had known himself to be incapable of protecting her. He had believed the Dark Lord would see the benefits in leaving her alive and sane, but until her punishment had stopped…. A tremor shook his body, and he recognized that the intensity of the memory was an aftereffect of the Cruciatus Curse. He stared resolutely at the water-stained ceiling, attempting to count the brownish rings that spread from the far corner. With relief, he felt the tremor cease as he banished the memory.

"He…Dumbledore…told me that he knew all along that I was to kill him," Draco spoke up again. He sounded thoughtful now, no longer lashing out in anger.

Snape sat back up. He definitely needed to know what Dumbledore had said to Draco and the others. Had they had any time alone together, or had the others come with Draco? Now was not the time he would have chosen for this conversation. Unfortunately, it was apparent that even if he refused to keep up his end of the conversation, Draco was still going to be thinking about the night's events. It wouldn't do for Draco to come up with his own explanations of how Dumbledore might have known.

"When was this?" Snape asked.

"Tonight. When I went up to the Tower, I found him there alone and disarmed him," Draco replied.

"Not quite alone, Draco. Potter will have heard that entire conversation," Snape corrected him.

"He told you the truth, though; he did know," Snape continued. "He spoke to me of it around the time Ronald Weasley was poisoned."

They _had_ spoken of it then, the truth was the best way to mislead. Their first conversation on the subject, in July immediately after Draco had received his assignment, was better left unmentioned.

"He really didn't believe I would do it," Draco mused.

"That's right; the old man believed in your better nature," Snape agreed. He could not quite manage the sneer at the old man's foolishness that ought to accompany such a remark, but as Draco hid his face in his hands, it hardly mattered. That verbal dagger had hit the target. It seemed Dumbledore might have been right about the boy, after all.

"He…he even offered to hide me, to protect me from the Dark Lord," Draco said, his voice trembling slightly. Snape nodded.

"Your mother, too," Snape added coldly, twisting the knife.

Draco, his face still hidden in his hands, stifled a sob. His shoulders began to shake. Snape, who was beginning to develop a headache, rubbed his temples and sat back, waiting. Yes, for the grand finale, he would convince the boy that this was all his fault.

In a few minutes, having composed himself, Draco looked back at Snape, his eyes red.

"_You_ knew?" he asked.

"Certainly. The old man trusted me completely," Snape said viciously. Blue eyes, gazing at him with compassion over half-moon glasses, just as the green light struck…Snape shook his head to clear it, then looked back at Draco.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this," Draco said, suddenly alarmed.

Snape could see the fear in his eyes now, as the belated realization came to him that Snape must be a man who did not hesitate to break a trust.

"Draco, stop emoting, and start thinking! I watched you produce acceptable potions for five years, so I know you are capable of it," Snape said sharply.

Confusion replaced fear in Draco's eyes.

"Your innermost thoughts, Draco, especially if any of them are… _ill-advised _…are doubtless safer with me than they are with you," Snape explained.

"You would tell the Dark Lord anything, if he asked," spat Draco.

The boy was right, of course. If the Dark Lord asked in the right way, he would, eventually, tell him anything. Snape shuddered, and was immediately disgusted with his lack of self-discipline. This was no time to let a random insult by a teenager, the aftereffects of his punishment, and his own imagination to get the better of him. The trick was to keep the Dark Lord from asking the right questions. He could do it, if he could stay in control of his feelings. Snape exhaled slowly.

"You are upset about your mother," he said calmly. "I understand. Nonetheless, think! Were I to learn anything that had even a remote chance of inspiring the Dark Lord to cause you harm, I would do all in my power to keep it from him. It's that, or death."

Draco looked at Snape; his eyes narrowed. Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. This conversation was making the Crucio-induced headache worse, if that was possible.

"So the Vow you made to my mother would make you betray the Dark Lord," Draco said.

"Surely, Draco, you're not contemplating any disloyalty to the Dark Lord, which I would then be obliged to hide from him?" Snape countered smoothly. "Or was Dumbledore right? Do you lack the will and the desire to be a true Death Eater?"

"That's none of your business!" Draco said, his voice high. His cheeks reddened, apparently as he recognized the childish nature of this rejoinder.

"Until your mother says otherwise, I must protect you with my life. This would really be a lot easier to do if I knew your plans and your limitations," Snape responded reasonably. "So, what's your answer?"

"I _am_ a true Death Eater!" Draco yelled. "I should've taken his offer-" his voice broke. "But I'll do it," he forced out.

"As a definitive statement of your convictions, Draco, this leaves much to be desired," Snape said, sneering. "Earlier tonight you couldn't even kill an unarmed old man, and now, what has changed?"

"I saw what the Dark Lord did to my mother!" Draco sobbed.

"And you saw me kill the old man," Snape said harshly. "Are you telling me you could do that, now?"

Draco bit his lower lip, fighting back more tears, and nodded his head.

"You can lie to me, Draco," Snape said softly. "You can even lie to yourself. But if you _are_ lying, the Dark Lord will find out. Sooner or later, he will give you an order you are not able to carry out. And you have seen, tonight, what that will mean," he concluded savagely.

"All right, you win, I can't do it. I can't," Draco spat out. "But it's too late for me. I'm a Death Eater. There's no place I can hide from the Dark Lord; he'll never let me go!"

"No, Draco, there might be a place that you and Narcissa could go," Snape contradicted him. "Even now, the Order retains the capability to hide you completely."

"That's impossible!" said Draco. "I brought the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. It's my fault that Dumbledore is dead."

"You didn't kill him. Neither did any of the Death Eaters that you brought into the school. Potter saw and heard it all, and he knows this. They will despise you for it. I don't doubt they will let you know exactly what they think of you. But they may honour the old man's offer, if you can convince them of your sincerity," Snape explained.

"I could be lying to them about wanting to leave the Dark Lord," said Draco. "They'll know that!"

"True," Snape agreed. He allowed his shoulders to slump dejectedly, and stared across the room for a moment. Draco appeared crestfallen, Snape noted with satisfaction out of the corner of his eye. The idea appealed to him, then.

"It would help if you had something to sweeten the pot, to demonstrate your good intentions," Snape continued. "I have reason to believe I may learn something to the Order's advantage in the near future."

What a neat solution to his dilemma it could be. Potter would never believe any information he attempted to provide. Whereas information Draco stole from him… was another story. His eyes glittered. This could only work once, so he'd better make the most of the opportunity.

"But…but that's treason! Why would you do this? If the Dark Lord finds out…" Draco trailed off, his blue eyes wide with fear.

"I'm afraid that it is," Snape agreed.

"You want me to go to Potter and the Order, beg them to hide me, and bring along the Dark Lord's secrets?" Draco asked incredulously.

"I'm merely pointing out your options," Snape replied silkily. "You could choose to remain a Death Eater and trust in the Dark Lord's mercy over that of the Order. In that case, Draco, I would do all I can to protect _you_ from harm. All that you would need to do to keep your mother safe would be to obey all of the Dark Lord's orders," he concluded

"They might kill me…"

"You think so?" Snape asked, a mocking note in his voice.

Draco shook his head mutely.

"They might turn me over to the Ministry," Draco mused.

"That would make Scrimgeour's year," Snape agreed. "You could be the star of the biggest show trial since the Longbottom Affair."

"I would have to tell them everything I know. About Aunt Bella and…my father," said Draco.

"You're making it sound complicated, Draco," Snape said tiredly. "It isn't. You told me, just five minutes ago, that even now, even having seen firsthand what it would mean to fail, you could not have killed the old man. Could you?"

Draco shook his head mutely.

"Then, does it really matter what the Order may ask of you?" Snape asked.

Silence greeted his words, as Draco now seemed to consider the rug at his feet with some interest. Snape waited tensely. Had he been too obvious? As Draco continued to reflect, Snape felt his hands start to shake again. He leaned forward to grab a blanket from the coffee table, to hide his weakness.

"No," Draco said firmly. He looked up at Snape. "If you learn something useful, Professor, I'll take it to the Order."

"Very well, Draco," Snape said. "Let's speak of it no further. The less said, the better, until it's time to leave."

Draco nodded his agreement.

"Well then," Snape said, covering himself with the blanket as he spoke, "it has been a long night, Draco. We both need some rest. Would you mind turning out the light?"

Draco stood up and walked across the room. He paused, his hand on the light switch.

"So, why are you going to betray the Dark Lord for me, sir? You didn't tell me why," he noted. "I told Dumbledore you were a double agent, and how you promised to help me, but he said he trusted you…but…" Draco trailed off.

"Your mother isn't going release me, Draco," Snape answered, with an irritated sigh. "But the moment that you pass into the protection of the Order, I will have fulfilled those clauses of the Vow I made to her that remain in force. You will no longer be attempting to carry out the Dark Lord's wishes, and you'll have, through my agency, better protection than I could hope to provide you here."

Draco gave Snape a long, considering look, then nodded his head and turned out the light.

There was no need to mention that he would be honouring a last wish of a dead friend, as well.


	8. Epilogue: An Unexpected Visitor

**Author's Note:**

Writing close-to-canon fanfiction about Snape usually involves taking scenes we see from Harry's point of view, and imagining how Snape saw it, or what actions Snape may have taken related to the scene, off page. Since this story started with events in canon and continued them into the future, I thought it would be fun to try instead to come up with the "canon" scene that results from my story. It comprises the bulk of this epilogue.

**Epilogue: An Unexpected Visitor**

Snape turned from the potion ingredients he was chopping to look at Draco. The boy's pale hair was dripping with sweat, but he was carefully keeping it out of the hot cauldron as he stirred the contents. It ought to be near done now, Snape calculated, if the boy had not blown it. It would mean a sleepless night for Snape if he had, Snape knew, because the Dark Lord had ordered the Veritaserum antidote to be ready the following morning.

He gave the roots a final couple of chops, then straightened and swept over to Draco. He noted with satisfaction that the contents had, indeed, achieved the vivid dandelion yellow of the final product. Wordlessly he took Draco's ladle and spooned up the potion, allowing it to fall back into the cauldron. Draco looked on with some trepidation.

"Good," Snape approved. Draco's shoulders sagged in relief.

"Tonight's the night," Snape added. "Potter is back at home, and I have the information you will need. You remember where I hid it?"

"Yes, the supply cabinet, and I know the spells to unseal it," Draco said. "But does it really have to be Potter, Professor?"

Snape could hardly explain that the Horcruxes were a secret with which Dumbledore had preferred to trust as few as possible.

"We've been over this," he said, letting some of his irritation show. "It should be someone you know. The Order members you know are the Weasleys-"

Draco shook his head, mutely.

"Professor McGonagall-there is no way you're getting to her without running into a Ministry representative first, she's at Hogwarts. Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks-but you don't know where either of them lives. And that leaves Potter. Anyway, Potter's the one you need to convince, he knows of Dumbledore's offer." Draco nodded.

"Well, I'll be off then. See that you succeed, Draco," Snape said. He strode from the building and hid himself. A couple of minutes later, he saw Draco come outside and Disapparate.

The die was cast, but whatever the outcome, he would have a little bit of time. If Draco succeeded, great. If he, somehow, was caught by the Ministry before he could get to Potter, Snape could try and get the information to Potter in some other way. But if Draco managed to blow it so badly that he was brought back by a Death Eater…then the information was likely to be lost for good. It was time to take out some insurance against the worst case scenario, then. Snape sat down at the end of the workbench, unrolled a piece of parchment, and dipped his quill in the inkpot.

_Potter:_

_If you are reading this letter, then I am dead, and the circumstances of my death might lead you to give its contents some consideration. I have learned that the Dark Lord has in his possession the wand once used by Rowena Ravenclaw. Like a certain ring and diary with which you are familiar, it is one of his most prized possessions, and thus protected with the most powerful Dark Magic that he could devise. Attached is a description of its location and the protections that surround it._

_Dated 5 July, 1997_

_-H. B. P._

Hastily, he scribbled out two additional copies, addressed to Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, and then conjured three copies of the diagram he had left for Draco. He sealed each in an envelope and tucked them inside his robe.

Three days, he figured, was enough time. He would arrange to have them sent out in three days, unless he destroyed them first, which he would do the moment he knew Draco had made it.

**:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:**

"We don't want any more of your kind here. Get lost!" Uncle Vernon bellowed.

When angry, Vernon Dursley could be heard throughout the house; Harry's bedroom was no exception. Harry understood immediately that by 'your kind' his uncle could only mean a wizard. He bolted through his bedroom door and towards the stairs to see who his unknown visitor might be. Ron, who had been perusing the Quidditch standings in the _Daily Prophet_, was right at his heels.

"I told that boy when he brought those other freaks here," Harry heard as he approached the stairs. For the landing, he could see his uncle's body shaking with anger. "No more! Owls swooping in at all hours, dishes flying about the kitchen…I won't have it. GO AWAY!" With these final words, Uncle Vernon tried to slam the door.

The wizard outside adroitly stuck his foot in the door. Harry started down the stairs, and saw that the shouting had also attracted Hermione's attention. She was standing behind Harry's uncle in the entry hall, doubtless having come from the sitting room. Her curiosity had been sufficiently aroused that she had not even brought the book she had been reading with her. As the unknown wizard opened the door wider, Hermione whipped out her wand at pointed it at the door.

"Ron! Harry!" she shouted in alarm, her voice thin and high. "It's Draco Malfoy!"

Vernon turned around to look at her and recoiled at the sight of her wand, as Harry and Ron arrived beside her. Through the doorway, Harry could now see that his visitor was indeed Malfoy. His pointed face was as pale as Harry had ever seen it, and there were dark circles around his grey eyes. Behind Draco stood Narcissa, the arrogance Harry remembered from their last meeting at Madam Malkin's notably absent, as she looked anxiously about.

"Malfoy!" said Harry, stopping a half step in front of Hermione, his wand now also in his hand. "You have some nerve, showing up here after what you did."

"Yes, I know," Draco replied quietly. "Could we discuss this inside?"

"Don't let that little snake in here, Harry," Ron said. "Let me Apparate to Dad, he can have Tonks and some other Aurors here in a jiffy to take them away."

"You can send for them after we talk," said Draco. "There's no hurry." A smirk crossed his lips as he looked at Ron. Harry felt himself getting angry and took a step towards Malfoy.

"Please, Potter, I'm just asking you to hear me out," Draco added softly, his face again serious.

Harry thought for a moment. Ron's offer was tempting, but the memory of Draco, his hand shaking as he lowered the wand he held trained on Dumbledore, stayed him. The option would still be open to him after Draco said his piece, after all. "Uncle Vernon, let them in. I am going to talk to him."

Mr. Dursley glared at Harry, puffing out his chest. But as his gaze again landed on the drawn wands of Harry and his friends, he stepped out of the way without further argument to admit Draco and Narcissa, and then shut the door hastily behind them.

"Very well, let's make it quick. Come on up to my room, both of you," Harry said brusquely. He turned to go up the stairs, and saw that his Aunt Petunia had also come out of the kitchen to see what the fuss had been about. Dudley stood behind her, seemingly trying to hide his enormous bulk behind the tall, thin figure of his mother.

Hermione joined Harry, while Ron, his blue eyes narrowed suspiciously, waited for the Malfoys to follow them.

"Could I speak with you privately?" Draco asked.

Harry turned back and looked at Draco coldly. "No, Malfoy. Whatever it is that you have to say to me, you can say it in front of my friends."

Draco flushed. Turning to Narcissa, he said softly, "Mother, I believe it would be best for me to talk to Potter alone. Could you wait here for me?" Narcissa nodded her agreement, pursing her lips nervously.

"Harry, we can't just leave a Death Eater like her down here alone," Ron warned. "She could get up to anything!"

Draco spun around angrily to face Ron, but before he could do or say anything, his mother placed a restraining hand on his shoulder, and then swept gracefully past him and approached Ron.

"Mr. Weasley is quite right, Draco," she said, smiling up at Ron, who eyed her with some confusion. Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Your care for your friend's safety is commendable," she continued, looking up into his face. "My wand," she added. Ron grasped the wand she proffered awkwardly and tucked it away in his back pocket.

"Now that that's settled…." said Harry, turning back to the stairs. Draco waited for Hermione to start up as well, and then followed her, with Ron bringing up the rear. As they climbed the stairs, Harry could hear Narcissa's cultured tones, attempting to apologize to Aunt Petunia for the unconventional style of her visit.

Harry strode into his room and sat down on the narrow bed, where Hermione joined him. Draco, looking awkward and very alone, stood just inside the room. Ron came in and closed the door behind him. He sauntered over to the pile of three trunks and leaned back against them. Fixing Draco with a baleful stare, he kept his wand trained on him and waited.

Malfoy looked at Ron uncertainly.

"Weasley…Ronald…" he stammered.

"You heard Harry, Malfoy, get on with it!" said Ron angrily.

"I just wanted to say, before…what I need to talk to Potter about. I read about your brother, Bilius, in the _Daily Prophet_. I, I'm sorry about what happened. I didn't know Greyback would be coming. I would never-"

"Oh, that's just great," Ron interrupted sardonically. "So instead, one of the other goons you _did_ mean to sneak in could have killed Bill, and that would've been just fine!"

"Well, yes. That is, no," Draco said, clearly flustered. "I mean, you are right. Anybody could've been killed by the Death Eaters I brought to…to Hogwarts, and no, that wouldn't have been a good thing."

"Oh, sure. Good thing nobody _did_ get killed," Ron said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"And anybody could've been killed by the poisoned mead I arranged for Professor Slughorn to give to Professor Dumbledore, as well. That was my fault, Weasley," Draco admitted.

"Yeah, thanks. Harry told me all about it," Ron said. "And you nearly got Katie killed, as well."

Draco hung his head. "Yes," he agreed.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room.

"Great. You're sorry. Guess what? We don't care," said Harry from the bed. "So, what is it you need to say to me before I send Ron for the Aurors? That you're sorry Dumbledore is dead too?!"

"I am, but that is not why I came to talk to you. I came to ask…to beg…for your help," said Draco.

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for you," Harry stated flatly.

"I think there is," said Draco. "You see, Dumbledore made me an offer. I should have taken him up on it more quickly! If we had left before-"

"Before Snape showed up and killed him!" shouted Harry.

"Before the others showed up. I have no idea how Snape got there," Draco corrected him. "If we'd left before, Dumbledore was going to hide me and my parents. You heard him, you were there," Draco looked at him appealingly.

Harry nodded grudgingly, wondering how Draco knew that detail. It had not been in the papers. He could ask, he realized. If Draco was begging him for a favor, he could hardly refuse to answer.

"How did you know I was there?" Harry asked.

"Snape," Draco answered shortly. "I saw the second broom too, but Snape was sure you were there after you accused him of killing Dumbledore."

"You have seen him and talked to him, then?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Draco replied. "At first he hid with my mother and me. Later, the Dark Lord assigned me to assist him. So, I know you heard the whole conversation."

"Sure, but what do you want me to do about it?" asked Harry.

"What Dumbledore said, about faking our deaths-a plan like that would have to involve more people," Draco said. "The Order of the Phoenix must've been helping Dumbledore to do something like that. I want you to tell that person what Dumbledore said, I want to accept the offer."

Harry laughed bitterly. "Why should the offer still be open?" he asked. "Dumbledore is dead. Why the change of heart, now? Is Voldemort angry that you did not kill Dumbledore yourself?"

At the mention of Voldemort's name, Draco paled and suppressed a shudder.

"So that is why you are here!" Harry exclaimed. "Snape stole your glory, and now Voldemort is angry with you. Did he Crucio you? It does not seem such a good idea when it happens to you, does it?"

Draco, though it had seemed impossible, grew even paler, and started to tremble. In a voice so quiet as to be barely audible, he answered, "The Dark Lord tortured my mother. I stood by and did nothing to stop it."

Hermione gasped, and then covered her mouth with her hand, her dark eyes wide.

"If I fail him, he'll do it again. Please," Draco said, fixing his eyes on Harry's, "my mother isn't a Death Eater. She wasn't involved in the plan at all. If you would at least ask them to hide _her_…" he broke off.

Harry glanced at his friends. Ron still stared balefully at Malfoy, though it seemed to Harry that some of the fire had gone out of his eyes. Hermione looked back at him, a frankly horrified expression on her face, but she, too, said nothing. Draco's story was reawakening the pity he had felt on considering the threats Draco faced from Voldemort, yet something in the story rang false to Harry, something he could not nail down…

"Why are you coming to me now?" Harry asked, as he suddenly understood what it was. "It has been weeks since Dumbledore's murder."

"I had to wait for a couple of days for my mother to recover," Draco explained. "She was in no condition to Apparate. And then I was afraid that you wouldn't help me, that you wouldn't believe-"

"That's right, Malfoy! Why _should_ we believe you?" Ron interrupted.

"I was afraid that's what you would think, Potter, so I waited," Draco replied, "to be able to make a deal. If you help my mother, I will tell you everything I know, answer any questions you may have, and if you want to turn me in to the Ministry, I will tell them whatever they want to know as well. But I really didn't know much. Nothing that I could hope to exchange for my mother's safety. But now I do have something, Potter. And I'll give it to you, if you give me your word that you will do all you can for my mother."

"What is it?" asked Harry.

Draco withdrew a folded piece of parchment from his robes. "This," he said simply.

"What is in it?" asked Hermione. "Harry should have some way to judge whether it's important, before he agrees to anything."

Draco glared at Hermione. She turned to Harry in mute appeal.

"She's right, Malfoy," Harry agreed.

"This is about some sort of special weapon or wand that the Dark Lord has, that belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw. It describes the magical protections under which it was placed, and gives the location where it is hidden," Draco said. An object of Ravenclaw's, Harry thought excitedly. Could this be a clue to the unknown Horcrux? He, Ron, and Hermione exchanged excited glances.

"Draco, we're not stupid!" Hermione said heatedly, recovering first from the surprise caused by Draco's claim. "Lord Voldemort would never trust you with something like that."

"That's right!" Ron agreed.

"He didn't," Draco agreed with them both. "He entrusted it to Snape."

Harry felt his anger and grief welling up in his chest as Draco spoke that hated name.

"I stole it, just this evening," Draco continued. "Snape is the Dark Lord's favorite now. A couple of weeks ago, he had a long, private meeting with the Dark Lord; I know because my Aunt Bella was complaining about it. She's jealous."

"You know where Bellatrix Lestrange is hiding?" Harry interrupted.

"Yes," Draco confirmed. "Mother and I were staying in a Muggle flat she uses as a hideout in London. I can give you the address, though I doubt anyone can sneak up on her. She makes that Moody lunatic who taught Defense Against the Dark Arts a couple of years ago seem careless."

"I will want that address," Harry stated flatly.

"You can have it, when I have your word," Draco replied immediately.

"And where Snape is staying," Harry added.

"I don't know where he's living," Draco replied. "I know how to Apparate to the laboratory. I could take you-"

"Harry, this could be a trap!" Hermione interrupted.

"I could take a team of Aurors," Draco amended.

"Very well," Harry said. "You were saying that Snape had a meeting with Voldemort?"

Draco resumed his account. "Anyway, as I left Snape's laboratory the evening after that meeting, he was still working on something. I snuck back, and saw him take this parchment out of the supply cabinet. Since he performed a counterspell to the Disillusionment Charm, and a couple of other counterspells I had never heard of before, I guessed that, whatever it was he'd hidden there, it was important. Ever since then, I've been waiting for my chance to be alone long enough to look at it, and hoping that it would still be there. It finally happened this evening. Now I've seen it, and I think it _is_ important enough."

"We should just take it from him, Harry," Ron grumbled.

"I though of that, Weasley," Draco said. "I put a spell on it. You won't get it open without damaging it."

"Harry, Snape will notice this is missing sooner rather than later," Hermione said earnestly. "Time may be of the essence."

Harry nodded, and got up from the bed. She was right.

"Malfoy, you have my word," he said, extending his right hand. "Give me that, and I will see what I can do for you and your mother."

Draco heaved a huge sigh of relief. "I need to use my wand, to remove the spell," he warned. Harry nodded his understanding. Pulling out his wand, Draco passed it over the parchment a couple of times, muttering under his breath as he did so, then handed it over. Harry accepted it, and opened it. Inside was a diagram, and notes written in a small, cramped handwriting Harry knew he could never forget.

**:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:**

The owl bearing the day's issue of the Daily Prophet flew in through the open window. Snape reached into his pocket for the coins to pay it, and tucked them into the pouch attached to the bird's leg. Unfolding the newspaper, he took in the day's lead article:

_**Dumbledore Murder Suspect Killed**_

_Acting on a tip from an informant, Aurors raided a Knockturn Alley boarding house late last night. Death Eater Draco Malfoy and his mother Narcissa were both killed while resisting arrest. _

_Malfoy was wanted in connection to the murder of Hogwarts Headmaster Professor Albus Dumbledore in June. Mrs. Malfoy (wife of Azkaban prisoner Lucius Malfoy and sister of fugitive Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange) was sought for questioning regarding her son's whereabouts. The alleged mastermind of the murder plot, Death Eater and former Hogwarts Professor Severus Snape, is still at large. Kingsley Shacklebolt, who led the raid, said the Auror Office will be strenuously pursuing any leads the search of the premises develops. (For more on the Snape manhunt, see story on p. 2)._

_Injured Auror…_

The mention of the boarding house, not at all where Draco was hiding, had suggested the deaths were not for real, but the involvement of Shacklebolt clinched it. Draco had made it to Potter, and his story had been accepted. Snape put the paper down and allowed himself a smile.

**THE END**


End file.
